Snow is falling off the trees out back. I am not fooled, Old Man Winter. I know that it is not warming up outside, I can see the tree limbs moving. It's a breeze, and likely a damn frigid one! This girl is keeping herself inside, wrapped in a blanket and dreaming of summer. Ok, I know that I will have no choice but to venture out past the threshold of warmth to retrieve the child from school shortly, but I've got a car starter and I can run! I win!!
For weeks now there has been intermittent blasting at a construction site nearby. The entire place shakes so bad, and from indoors I don't hear the warning horn. It jumps me every time. I sincerely hope that they finish up whatever it is they are clearing soon, I've dropped enough things around her as a result of the surprise quakes. I'm relieved of course that the roof did not fall off the building as was my original thought when the first blast occurred, but the novelty of the brief moments of excitement has worn off since I realized the true nature of the noisy tremors.
The thing I love about living in this area is the quiet. The peaceful, wooded backyard, the subdued neighborhood feel in sharp contrast to the proximity of hustle and bustle so close by. Best of everything. Except maybe for that blasting. Really on my last nerve. Probably wouldn't be so bad if I didn't work from home. (Sigh) One of the few drawbacks of an office-less profession, but I'm fairly certain I can deal with it.
The good news is by the time the windows and doors can remain open all day, this ridiculous noisiness will be over. That's actually great. If I have to live with the intermittent house rumbling, I'm rather glad that it's now, in the middle of winter, than in the spring or summer when I'd rather be listening to nature.
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